Blades of Fire
by GaladaeOakbreeze
Summary: Iysinil can cast spells, but she isn't allowed to, she's all they trained her to be, but they don't trust her. The tension between the Horde and Alliance grows with each passing day, and attacks grow more frequent. She must choose to play by their rules and keep her strength hidden or risk losing everything.
1. Chapter 1

It was always so cold. Iysinil had passed three sets of dwarven guards just that day, and yet though she was merely behind a stone or tree even their wolves failed to scent her. What a hopeless excuse for a race. But, hopefully, she was nearly out of Dun Morogh at which point she would follow an old tunnel through the mountain to the sea where a small boat would await her to sail her way down the edge of the continent to Stormwind where she would wait in the hills near the city until she saw the Windriders. They would circle high above the city, dropping bottles containing notes raining onto the streets. Iysinil was unfortunately not allowed to know what they said. She would then row her way out and throw a collection of torches just as more Windriders dropped barrels of highly explosive materials onto the ships in the harbor. Hopefully the torches would light the barrels aflame and she would get out of there as soon as possible, finding a Windrider waiting in the surrounding forest and somehow not get killed.

And yet though she was trusted to do that, she wasn't trusted to know exactly the point of showering glass onto the citizens was. No one trusted her, and she didn't know why. She had passed every test they had thrown at her, she was strong, fast, quiet, fierce, and clever just as they wanted her.

And yet they didn't trust her with the simple knowledge on what is said on a note.

The only person, or rather living thing, that trusted her was her young Dragonhawk. Sodrin, as he was called, who was red at the tips of his wings, tail, and along his back and silver on his underbelly and the lower parts of his wings and tail. He was enchanted to forever be a young hatchling, although he had the mind of a grown adult. She has known him since the moment he hatched and raised him herself. He had also been enchanted with a high ability to learn and was developing ways to communicate with Iysinil through his natural click-like chattering.

The young blood elf made it past the cold of Dun Morogh and sailed her way down the sea easily and without interruption, the small craft being pulled quickly by the rather large sail. She would often mutter to herself or practice magic as she sailed, although she wasn't supposed to know many spells. All she was permitted to know is how to creep up behind people and behead them. Every young child's dream. She pulled down the patched red sheet to not be seen and paddled her way into the hills, stopping in a small crevice between two mounds of dirt.

And there she would wait.

Later Iysinil looked to the sky, distantly she could see the Windriders circling the city. She clambered into the boat with torches in hand and lit them with a quick spell, one of the few she knew. She heard the shatter of glass as bottle after bottle rained down on the city. Men yelled orders and women and children screamed. Then barrels began to drop and she threw her torches. Each missed it's target by no more than the width of her hand. She muttered angrily to herself, cursing her ability to fail at even the simplest command.

Desperate for the plan to succeed she cast the small fire spell onto the barrels, causing explosion after explosion. A man saw her and a collection of archers raised their bows and sent a rain of arrows in her direction. Iysinil leapt into the water and held her breath, swimming to the shore. She ran with Sodrin just behind her into the forest and found the Windrider waiting at the base of a tall tree. The moment she leapt onto its back it took flight, soaring into the sky. She flew just behind the other riders away from the now chaotic Stormwind.

One of them glared back at her and angrily told her, "I'll deal with you later."


	2. Chapter 2

"The alliance will now be on alert, but fearful. It may take much time and many lives but Stormwind will fall, and all other Alliance cities will follow." Eindur told us in his booming voice. This city stank worse than anything else she had ever smelled. Undercity was an awful place, but it was where Eindur was and he refused to leave. He was put in charge of the most capable of all of Silvermoon. How honorable to sit in a stinking sewer that reeked of death and mold filled with revived corpses.

"You may go, all but you. Iysinil, I must have a word with you." The others walked out of the room leaving Iysinil staring Eindur straight in eye almost challengingly, nearly begging him to punish her. "You, I heard, went against orders and used a fire spell on the barrels. A fire spell. Now how do you know such a spell?"

"Because I wanted to learn. Unlike you who prefers using brute force and knocking everyone to the ground with a sword bigger than all of Azeroth I prefer to know more than just strength. And I do more in my spare time than sit in a rotting underground death-hole."

Eindur grabbed her neck and held her firmly in place. "If it weren't for me you wouldn't be here, you would be sitting in a prison being eaten by rats."

"If it weren't for you I'd have more freedom than a mouse caught by a cat, which is about where I am now."

"You need to learn to hold your tongue." He said through gritted teeth.

"I know a simple spell and yet you punish me as if I was a criminal."

"You are a criminal, you must stay within your own class. A rogue cannot know a mage's spell, not while I have any power in Silvermoon."

"You don't have power in Silvermoon, you know just as well as I. Silvermoon is under the power of Verion, Silithan, and Quer'an, but we all know it is Verion who truly in control."

Silvermoon was attacked by Alliance of all kinds from all corners of the world and the highest blood elves in power were killed. Silithan took control and rebuilt stability into Silvermoon, keeping laws in place. He called Quer'an to control the interaction between Silvermoon and other Horde cities, and Verion was called to control the armies and training.

"I have more power than you."

"One can't have less power than none at all." She muttered. He threw her back and whereas most would fall to the ground with the force he used she held her ground.

"Another mistake like this and you will stand before Verion."

Iysinil left the filthy chamber and went to the inn. A rat ran from the corner and darted over her foot, running off towards one of the rooms. She found her room and grabbed a stone she used for sharpening as well as a pouch of coin.

Darting quietly back up the halls she found the flight master and pressed a few copper into his hand. The Windrider flew out of Undercity and up into the rotting forest beyond, all of Tristfal Glades was dead and tainted. With a rather disgusted expression Iysinil stepped off of the Windrider and wandered a little ways.

Pulling a pair of long, slender daggers from her waist Iysinil began to attack an invisible opponent. Using speed and agility as her strength she leapt back away from an unseen sword and threw quick, well-aimed counter attacks.

A twig broke underfoot behind her and she spun around, blade grazing the cheek of a blood elf she had never seen before. Blood started to drip from a long, shallow wound.

"Who are you?" Iysinil asked him.

"Thank you for being so concerned about this cut you just gave me." He said with an amused expression.

"Who are you?" she repeated.

"Isthisor, I was just flown to here from Silvermoon. And I received quite a friendly greeting upon my arrival." He said, brushing away some of the blood with his hand.

"Oh stop whining, you'll get worse than that if you keep walking as loud as thunder and careless as a squirrel."

At that she turned and walked off into the forest and found a flat patch of land where she sat and cleaned and sharpened her daggers, her mind wandering.


	3. Chapter 3

Rats, there were so many rats. In the span of an hour Iysinil must have seen three maggots, one of which was crawling across her bed in the morning, and six rats, one of which was Eindur who scowled at her as she walked by. Iysinil scowled in return.

Isthisor seemed to be everywhere at once. He was in ever corridor, chamber, and room that she found herself coming to, always with some business or another he needed to take care of. Eventually she sighed and jogged back to her room at the inn, but left upon the sight of multiple writhing maggots across her bed and floor she left to find a chamber that she could seal herself into to practice her spells.

She found a room that was bare except for a pile of papers on a stone desk and an unlit candle. She lit the candle with a quick spell and shut and locked the door behind her.

The papers were documents, letters that had been received, many of which spoke of mostly denied but occasionally accepted trade between major cities and minor towns across Azeroth. One in particular drew her attention. It was of a shipment of poisoned blade being sold to an unnamed individual in Booty Bay down in Stranglethorn Vale. In return the strange man sent back a crate full of gadgets that had been 'altered' in some way. It seemed like these two wanted to keep this exchange a secret.

Under the pile of papers was a map, which she hastily checked. Down at the very tip of Eastern Kingdoms was Booty Bay, opposite her home at the other end of the continent.

She shoved the map and page into her pocket and began to practice spells, mostly fire. She knew a spell that conjured ice as well, and one that would conjure small hovering balls of light that unlike fire would not set a library ablaze.

"Eindur?" she asked the tall elf as he shuffled through a stack of paper and books.

"What?" he asked, obviously wishing to see anyone but her standing in the doorway.

"Would I be able to travel for just a little while without being beheaded upon my return?"

"Where would you go? To be an alliance spy?"  
"It would be more effective to spy on you here than anyone anywhere else. But I am no spy.

"I ask again, where would you go?"  
"I'm not sure, around. I probably wouldn't leave the continent."

"Probably? I assure you that you would 'probably' bleed profusely on this floor while I slowly crush your skull under my boot if you did."

"You're so kind." She said, stepping from the room.

Grabbing what little she would need Iysinil paid the flight master a good amount of silver and leapt onto the back of a Windrider.

"Where are you off to?" Isthisor asked just before she took flight.

"Wherever I wish to be." She stated and nudged the strange beast forwards. They stopped at the lower part of Loch Modan, keeping hidden from the alliance and sleeping in the hills. The next day they reached Booty Bay, which she found instantly to be filled with greedy traders and drunken sailors.


	4. Chapter 4

**Sorry each chapter is so short.**

* * *

The letter was not all that old, but even in a month someone could travel across the entire continent, or if they wished to the other. Iysinil had never been to Kalimdor, though she had heard tales about it, most of which were of great fires burning down villages and the murder of women and children but there had to be more to it than that.

Sails snapped back and forth in the wind as trade was made from across Azeroth to this strange trading post. Examining the page she saw at the bottom was a scribbled signature and a stamped mark of smoke coming from the ears of a screaming skull.

Iysinil walked into the nearest building where armor and weapons were sold.

"Excuse me, sir, do you recognize this mark?" she held out the page, folded only to show the strange and slightly disturbing symbol.

"Ah, yes I do." He was obviously drunk and his breath stank of rotting fish. Racks of swords were standing behind him.

"Could you tell me?" She asked, right hand on one of her daggers.

"Oh, just give me a moment to remember." He said, taking another drink from a container in his jacket. She was surprised he could remember which was up and which down. "Right, just head down that way a bit and when you come to the shop that sells old meat turn left and walk about fifteen paces."

She left, not truly believing him. She found the shop and turned left. After no more than five paces she found herself standing at the edge of the dock nearly in the sea. Well that man was certainly _very_ helpful.

Rough hands grabbed her arms and pinned them at her back, another holding a knife to her throat. Whoever these people were they were slowly tipping her towards the water.

"You're searching for our boss, our boss doesn't like to be hunted." A raspy voice said right into her ear. She flinched. Her pulled back her long red-brown hair and repositioned his knife.

Whoever was holding her arms had a firm grip and she couldn't reach her daggers.

She threw her head back and heard the disgusting crack of a broken nose. At the same moment she kicked at the man holding her arms but he held. The knife was away from her throat for a moment and she took the opportunity to hurl herself into the water. The man was strong but he already had her so close to the edge that just a little bit of weight sent them plunging towards the clear blue. The plunge loosened his grip slightly and she managed to pull away. She caught a breath of air before he grabbed her ankle and pulled her down.

She squirmed and writhed but he would not let go. He pinned her to one of the wooden poles that supported Booty Bay. He once again had her arms pinned. The man had hair black as night and eyes grey like silver and a scowl on his face. A scar ran from his forehead to his chin. He was a man, a simple human.

Her struggles weakened, her chest ached. She longed for a breath of air. Her vision was beginning to be blurred and the world was spinning, yet the man held strong.

She felt the drifting currents of water, the other man had jumped in. She was done for. The man holding her down was pulled away and her sight became filled with red as blood poured into the water. Someone grabbed her upper arm and yanked her to the surface, throwing her sopping wet onto the dock of Booty Bay.

She lay still for a moment, then began to cough, spitting out water. Her arms were bruised and there was a faint cut on her neck.

Kneeling beside her, also dripping wet, was another man. He had dark brown hair that hung just to his chin. Instinctively she put her right and on one of her daggers.

"I am no Alliance, nor am I with them. I wouldn't kill a colleague now would I?"

"I know many who would, and how do I know you aren't sided with your kin?"

"I saved your life, you could show a bit of trust and thanks."

"I trust next to no one." She stated, those she trusted had a way of deceiving her. "Although I must ask, do you recognize this?"

She pulled the sheet from her pocket, it was soaking wet and almost none of the lettering was legible but the mark could be seen if you looked closely.

"Yes, I do. But it isn't anywhere you could go."

"Where?"  
"Stormwind."


	5. Chapter 5

"What?" she asked.

"He's in Stormwind. If I may ask, why is it so important that you find him?"

"I have a feeling I need to, and on this page there was trade of poisoned blades for tampered trinkets, and the blades were from Undercity. If that man is now in Stormwind than I have a feeling some of the Horde are aiding the Alliance."

It wasn't all because of that, she was nothing to her kind. She was worthless, and she felt the need to prove herself. She didn't dare say that out loud.

"Well you can't exactly say you're human, you have the ears and eyebrows like whiskers, you don't look like anyone allowed in Stormwind."

"I'll wear a hood."

"You'd have to fold them over though, right?" he moved his hands away from his head as if trying to form ears from midair. "That'd hurt your ears, wouldn't it? They're so long…"

"Then my ears are sore. I need to know. You really know nothing about anything past ships and drink do you?" she asked, checking to make sure she had everything in her pockets.

"I can't deny that I spent the first sixteen years of my life without touching my feet to land, living off meat and water that people got from islands in small boats. I never saw any of the islands though, my mother didn't want me to."

"Ah, so it isn't your fault you have no more knowledge than a dead fish."

"You're so kind."

Iysinil purchased a dark leather hood from one of the drunken merchants. She also purchased new clothing, hers obviously not anything an Alliance would have. She, too her displeasure, trimmed most of her whisker-like eyebrows as well. She found that she felt almost lost without them, and to her displeasure she would occasionally bump into a wall. The next day, clothed in a plain white tunic, dark trousers, and hood she stowed Sodrin beneath it, tucked uncomfortably at the back of her neck. She went to the Alliance flight master and handed him a few silver coins.

"Pull back the hood." The small dwarf said.

She handed him a gold piece, one of the four that she had.

"Bribery will not work on a rich dwarf such as I." he stated, although his eyes were filled with greed. She handed him another.

"Stormwind it is then." He said, grinning. She climbed onto a white-headed gryphon. It squawked slightly in protest but soon calmed.

She arrived at Stormwind tense and jumping at every sound. The flight master nodded to her, but not knowing the appropriate 'human' way to respond she simply walked past. She was a bit taller than most of the women, about as tall as the men but none of them seemed to attribute it to anything much. She wandered through the streets, looking at the shop signs for the skull.

After hours she found it near the water canals in the section with blue roofs.

Opening the door she stepped inside. A man clothed strangely much like her, hood and lightly colored tunic and all, was sitting behind a desk, dropping ingredients into a small cauldron.

Looking up he muttered a frustrated string of insults that she couldn't quite catch and stood.

"What do you want?" He growled.

"I want to know who you are, and why you're trading with someone in Undercity."

She closed the door.

"Ah, come to arrest me have you?"

"For assisting the Alliance, yes."

"What do you mean?"

She pulled back her hood with one hand, drawing a dagger with the other.

"A blood elf without whiskers, what a failure you are." He stated with a grim chuckle.

"I'll kill you for that, and for everything else you've done!"

"Ah, so you believe I'm some Horde scum who's helping the Alliance through trade."

"I found a page that gave the minor details, poisoned Undercity blades for some form of 'altered' gadget. I had my suspicions. Then I arrived at Booty Bay to find that you had fled to Stormwind. Seeing as the Horde hadn't killed you, you're almost certainly one of us. But no one in Stormwind has killed you, so by that logic you must be one of them. You're a traitor one way or the other. So, who are you?"

"And I would be dumb enough to tell you that why?"

"Because you'll have a blade to your throat if you don't."  
"An overconfident hag is what you are, coming in and pointing daggers at an innocent man."

"Innocent?" she laughed. "You're the furthest from innocent I've seen in my life. Tell me who you are."

With one hand he pulled back his own hood, revealing features that resembled that of a blood elf's, even the eyes that were always hidden under the rim of his hood, yet instead of the long pointed ears that accompany such heritage he had scarred and deformed stubs.

"I am what you are to be years from this day."


End file.
